


Beneath a Canopy of Rustling Leaves

by glamorouspixels



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: (also questionable understanding of police work based entirely on assumptions), Established Phrack, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, but we're here for phrack not accuracy, does this count as plot?, fall adventures, happy fall everyone, questionable australian weather probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-10-24 16:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamorouspixels/pseuds/glamorouspixels
Summary: After a week of separation brought on by a string of demanding cases, Phryne and Jack reunite to spend the evening enjoying the autumn weather, as well as each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title stolen from _The House with Chicken Legs_ by Sophie Anderson. 
> 
> This is rated Explicit for chapters two and three, but editing fics after posting them has been known to lead to issues. (I didn't want the tags out of order or the word count deleted as has happened to me in the past. Something will probably go wrong in posting this fic as it is; something has gone wrong every single time I've tried adding multiple chapters to a draft so we'll have to see what happens.)
> 
> Also, I apologize in advance if the weather in this is unrealistic. I really wanted to write something set during fall and even asked my friend from Melbourne for advice, but all she told me was that the weather there was "so fucked" that I could "say anything and it would probably be true." So, um... Yeah. Sorry!

It was a chilly, yet beautiful autumn day, and Jack Robinson was imprisoned within the dull confines of his office with nothing but files and papers keeping him company. It was his custom on most days of the year, regardless of their evident loveliness. It had still been dark out upon his arrival in the early hours, and he suspected it’d take a small eternity until he witnessed the light of day again. Well, at least if it wasn’t for the involvement of a certain lady detective, though he couldn’t be sure when she’d next demand his attention. Still, he was hoping it would be soon.

The midday sun was bathing the space in a balmy glow, conveniently illuminating the endless piles of unfinished paperwork in which he was presently drowning. The illegible penmanship of his Constables made for a stark contrast to the crisp white of the reports before him. They’d been working on a string of tiresome, uneventful cases; a bank robbery one day, a rebellious drunk the next, yet nothing that might explain the involvement of the Honourable Miss Fisher, or at the very least capture his attention long enough to make decent progress on his chores so he could return to her at once.

Truth be told, he couldn’t blame Phryne for her lack of interest. Any case that didn’t entail at least one somewhat suspicious death was far beneath her standards. For all he knew, she was likely off somewhere relishing the weather. (With whom, he wouldn’t permit his mind to consider. The remains of his doubts were penetrating his every thought, even as he was continuously being reminded of her unwavering affection. Old habits died hard.) Regrettably, he couldn’t afford to operate that way, though that didn’t make him immune to the charms of the season.

How he longed to be out on the streets, Phryne by his side, the two of them enjoying the last of the season’s warmth before the gloominess of the weather began to match that of his office. At such times, he envied her ability to move about their shared cases more freely, but he had to acknowledge that his position was what had led to their partnership in the first place. Still, he found that his gratitude was momentarily paling when he considered the stacks upon stacks of papers adorning his desk.

Jack was just contemplating his unseen escape through the open window – he refused to recognize that he was thereby neglecting his tasks and only prolonging his state of imprisonment – when the universe seemed to finally take pity on him.

“Hello, Jack!”

The door to his office had flown open, making him wince. All incoming complaints died in his throat, however, as he laid eyes on Phryne, who cast an apologetic glance at the door before she turned to him, a confident smile on her face. She was positively glowing; her mere presence appeared to have brightened the room, and her bright red cardigan complimented the welcoming spirit of autumn. Her twinkling expression dimmed only a bit as she surveyed his surroundings. She knew the recent absence of him in her life had been due to less than pleasant requirements, but she hadn’t imagined the situation quite so severe.

“Miss Fisher. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He managed a tired half-smile; his voice was strained with fatigue and failing to adequately convey his relief at her sudden appearance – as always his charming freight train. Sliding deeper into his office, she gave the door a careless nudge with a renewed glint of mischief in her eyes. Then, she set down a rather large and heavy-looking basket and settled on the visitor’s chair. Thankfully, she appeared only mildly irritated that her usual spot atop his desk was already taken. Still, Jack was beginning to regret the chaos and carelessness with which he’d regarded his documents, wishing he’d kept this particular side of his desk available to her. At least then, he would have had a somewhat reasonable excuse to neglect his duties in favour of her. Surely, no one would’ve expected him to do any get any work done while being tempted by those sinfully smooth legs on display right beside him when her skirt rode up as she sat... Unfortunately, though, he noticed she was currently wearing trousers, leaving that manner of distraction somewhat out of option, even if he were to make room for her.

“I was just dropping off Dot to see Hugh and thought I’d bring you some lunch. Well,” she swiped her hand through the space as if dismissing a minor inconsistency in her accounts, “Dot did, to be precise.” Food had been the furthest thing from his mind since he knew a sensual supper in Phryne’s dining room (followed by other, even more sensual activities) was out of the question for the very near future. He knew he was acting like a defiant child; unable to be accompanied by her, his brain had resolved not to eat at all. As had been his way during most cases before he’d known the pleasures of Dot and Mr Butler’s cooking, so he failed to see an issue.

He simply smiled his gratitude and waited for her to continue, believing it indecent to tuck into whatever delicacies she’d brought them right then and there. And as he seized the opportunity to take her in, the brief promise of a filling meal was immediately forgotten. She had leaned back as far as the chair would allow and was gazing longingly out his window, briefly lost in thought. Her glossy hair was slightly tousled from when she’d removed her hat upon entering, now set atop the basket by his desk. The sunlight was playing softly across her features; the pale green of her eyes was sparkling in the golden beams.

Jack had been holed up in his office for the better part of a week. It was no time at all next to their months apart after she’d left for England, and far from the first time he’d worked on a case all by himself. And yet, in this moment, he couldn’t imagine ever parting ways with her again. (She’d spoiled him, he realized, recalling the many years filled to capacity with nothing more than police work.) But it was more than the relief at the distraction she offered. Time seemed to slow as he looked at her. He felt she was just where she belonged – by his side, but also right where she was, drawn in and caressed by the sun.

It seemed even their short time apart had deepened his appreciation for her. It wasn’t only the physical closeness he’d missed, though he did thoroughly enjoy that aspect of their relationship. Even the most mundane of experiences of his day-to-day life felt enhanced with Phryne by his side, not to mention the comfort of a steady shoulder to lean on. And then of course there was the warmth of her, the incredible softness of her touch…

Phryne's attention turned back to him, her expression pinched with a hint of melancholy, yet spilling over with fondness for him. “It’s so lovely out, and I thought we might have a little walk?” Then she added more quietly, looking almost embarrassed, “I’ve missed you.”

Jack ached to jump up and wrap her in his arms, eternally grateful for the warmth of her presence. Though, in truth, his love for her was combining with a set of entirely different thoughts slowly taking shape in his mind, as he willed his persistent doubts to vanish at her admission. He presumed that what she had planned for them had been much less innocent than simply a walk, even as she did appear to be enjoying the shine of daylight and wanted to share it with him. He was certain they’d be able to make sufficient use of it, thanks to her fanciful imagination. But even his own, less imaginative mind was coming up with a variety of enticing options. It was truly unfortunate he’d be stuck here until his shift came to an end – perhaps even longer, if he kept allowing himself to be so distracted.

Jack’s suspicions regarding Phryne’s intentions were quickly confirmed as her words had been emphasized by a slow stroke of her fingertips along her inner thigh. The gesture would’ve been almost convincing in its absentmindedness if it hadn’t been for Phryne’s eyes snapping up to Jack’s to ensure he was watching. Even more than that, he was clearly struggling to avert his gaze. He imagined his own fingers replacing hers, sliding against her bare skin rather than the silky material of her trousers. He’d drag them upward to meet her wet heat, showing her just how much he appreciated her...

As if sensing his thoughts, Phryne rose, crossing the room to straddle him. Jack’s hands flew to her hips on impulse to hold her in place while hers pushed into his hair. He shivered as her lips dragged softly along his jaw and up to his ear. “Must you always be so dedicated to your work?” He pulled back briefly to shoot her a look of mock disapproval, but she remained unfazed. She must have known that all that was left of his dedication was currently crumbling beneath the trail of her lips. “How could I _possibly_ entice you to leave with me?” Her tone was bordering on dramatic as she traced the shell of his ear. He really couldn't give in so easily. And yet…

“You’re corrupting me, Miss Fisher.” Phryne let out a small gasp as Jack pulled her roughly by the back of her head to draw her into a hungry kiss, her mouth immediately sliding open against his. Any further objections Jack might have been compelled to voice were diminished by the sweetness of her tongue pushing into his mouth, each thrust accompanied by her hips grinding down onto his.

His hand on her waist slid lower, fingertips digging into the round globe of her buttock as Phryne whimpered into his mouth. Which, sadly, teleported him back to the _ actual _task at hand, which really wasn’t to make love to Phryne with his colleagues right through the not-entirely-closed door. (It wasn’t that they hadn’t done it before, but those had been even more desperate times, and he hadn't lost all of his resolve just yet.)

He tore away, breathless, his palm pressing against her chest in a weak attempt to keep her at a distance and ward off any further attempts of her to seduce him. Phryne, bless her, arched her breast into his hand, seeking to rub her nipple between his fingers. She instantly latched her mouth onto his neck, all the while continuing her ministrations against his hips. Tilting his head back to allow her better access, the determinatiom to return to his work once again slipping, Jack’s eyes found the pile of documents piled high behind her on the surface of his desk.

“Phryne.” His voice was little more than a breathy moan as she settled on a particularly sensitive spot near his pulse point. His eyes fluttered shut against his will, both in response to her teeth dragging against his heated skin and in what he presumed was his body’s way to pointedly ignore his papers calling him away.

“This really isn’t the time.” he said, and Phryne straightened up atop his lap, though not without considerable disappointment, and Jack immediately regretted the loss of her touch. Although, as it was, he was already going to spend his precious day off leaving through the written remains of his work week. He couldn’t afford any more distractions, and if he got a good head start, he might allow himself to drop by at Wardlow for an extensive _ dinner _ the following evening. He told her just that, but she didn’t seem satisfied.

“But _ Jaaack _ ” – her voice pitched as she drew out his name, and she piped up as a fresh idea took place in her mind – “perhaps we could just… do both? Nobody _ really _gives attention to the paperwork, and besides, your shift is nearing completion. Surely you aren’t required to sacrifice all of your leisure time when you clearly have a lover to attend to – what kind of world would that be?” He cast a disgruntled glance at her innocent expression and admittedly faulty logic, hoping his face wouldn’t betray just how much he desired to give in.

He gave her proposal a second thought, grasping onto the next best idea that came to his mind since he knew full well he wouldn’t be granted the time necessary to take care of _personal matters _as long as he didn't seize it himself. Unfortunately, the solution his mind had conjured up wasn’t the most practical. “All right, Miss Fisher.” Jack let out a sign to accompany his pointed glare. Surprisingly, though, he found that the idea he was about to voice was growing on him. “You may stay and sit on my lap while I wrap up for the day.” The delighted grin she gave him in response was certainly worth the hours of torment he knew were imminent if he attempted to focus with Phryne pressed up against him.

Instead of straddling him and blocking his view as she had been doing, Phryne moved her legs to fling over Jack’s lap and across his chair’s armrest. Aiming to steady herself, she threw an arm around his shoulders. With that, she only narrowly avoided hurling them both out of his chair. Jack shook his head at her, barely having rescued them from the hard and unforgiving floor. Phryne only shrugged and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and that was that. Then, she wriggled around to adjust to a more comfortable position, making him tense beneath her. Once satisfied, she tucked her head into his neck, breathed in deeply, and let out a contented sigh.

Her bottom was poking unpleasantly into his thigh, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell her, unwilling to sacrifice their closeness for a more convenient position. Instead, he picked up the nearest document and began to read.

***

Jack continued to work and work some more, the promise of _ Phryne _spurring him on. He grew accustomed to her warm weight against his side as he gradually added more reports to the pile he found acceptable for submission. He was attempting glances at the latest case file balanced precariously with one hand while the other remained wrapped around Phryne’s back to keep her in place – even as she’d gone suspiciously quiet against him and her breathing even. He had just given up on actually correcting the reports presented to him, opting instead to skim over them until a passable opportunity to get away would present itself. As she’d said, there were more important matters requiring his urgent attention. And thankfully, it was only Collins on the job today, as always dutifully pretending not to notice what they got up to in the dubious privacy of his office.

Before his eyes, the words began to dance and blur as if seeking to evade his scrutiny. With Phryne’s breathing having grown heavier against his neck and her warmth weighing him down, Jack could feel his own resolve fading. His eyelids were fluttering involuntarily as fatigue threatened to overtake him. It really had been a long week.

Eventually, the words straying from all sense in his eyes, Jack surrendered. Awkwardly bending over Phryne’s sleeping form to touch the abandoned file down to his desk, he contemplated his next move.

More than anything, he wanted her to remain comfortable. He even briefly considered allowing himself to doze off, but his desk chair was digging harshly into his back and he didn’t fancy the image they’d make should another officer come to catch them. He could carry her, he presumed. He’d done it before, though he wasn’t certain it would favor his public image any more than having someone walk in on them, asleep when he ought to have been on duty. It truly seemed his only option was to wake her if he planned for them to escape.

“Phryne,” he said, running his palm up and down her back, sitting as straight as he could manage with her body draped across his back. “I’ve finished.” Soon, her lashes fluttered against his jaw and she went momentarily tense before remembering where she was. Once she did, she groaned sleepily and pulled him closer, her arm flung around his shoulders tightening. Jack immediately regretted his decision to disturb her as his heart clenched with affection for her.

“Let’s get you out of here, shall we?”

She mumbled something against his skin that vaguely resembled ‘no’ and ‘too comfortable,’ but began to stretch languidly and straighten up nonetheless. Although, he noted, she didn’t fully rise from the comfort of his lap as her gaze focused on him, soft and loving and still a bit sleepy.

“It’s only right that I escort you home,” she breathed, just as he had all those months before. Only this time, luckily, the proposal wouldn’t bring about a plunge into the icy waters of Queenscliff. Her words caressed the side of his face and lovingly wrapped around his heart like the familiar silk sheets they’d so often shared listening to the many rainstorms recently thundering beyond the safety of her boudoir. He turned his head to make their lips meet, catching her as she melted back into his embrace. Instinctively, her free hand curled around his neck and into his hair. She sighed into his mouth, lazily moving her lips against his.

As much as he desired to bask in her soft warmth, this position didn’t strike him any more appropriate to the public eye than her sleeping body draped across him. Regretting the loss, he gently pushed her off his lap, earning an irritated glare as Phryne finally stood. Immediately after he followed suit, however, she leaned back into him, looping her hand into the crook of his elbow and pressing against his side. With her free hand, she reached out for her hat and, after placing it atop her head, the basket Dot had packed them.

Jack tugged her along and out into the front room, where Collins appeared suddenly engrossed in the nearest document – the police station’s latest shopping list, if Jack wasn’t mistaken. Phryne briefly released her grip on his arm to allow him to don his overcoat and fetch his hat off its hanger, but was fast to return to his side.

***

Phryne was turning more alert as they stepped outdoors, Jack followed her gaze, directed at the crisp, golden leaves lining the lane, bright flames against the ashen sidewalk. His attention, however, was easily drawn back to her.

She was breathtaking, luxuriating in the late afternoon sun. Her cheeks held a rosy flush thanks to the frosty bite to the air, her short hair blowing softly in the light breeze. Her head was turned toward the flaming light, her eyes fluttering to evade the glowing rays that hugged her, as if the sun itself was honored to be graced by her appearance.

Jack would be content to remain there until the end of time, marveling at her impossible beauty the exact moment her eyes found his, clear and bright and full of wonder, but the looming presence of the station and _ Collins _ at their backs unceremoniously dropped him back to his senses. He couldn’t bring himself to take her to his house just yet, as she’d implied back in his office, and she had voiced an interest in going exploring earlier that day. Though her initial intentions hadn’t been as innocent, Jack had caught the way she’d admired the joys of the season earlier that day. And since his exhaustion had required him to take the evening off, he decided to make the most of it before the world went cold and lifeless. And, knowing Phryne, he was certain _ exploring _of the intimate kind would ensue no matter how they’d choose to begin their evening.

“Still up for that stroll you mentioned, Miss Fisher?”

“Always, Jack.” She grinned up at him, and he was awestruck by the sparkle in her eyes that made his heart flutter. Gently, he stirred her away from the station, her hand a steady warmth where it lay against his arm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I wasn't sure if Jack would even be assigned such insignificant cases as mentioned in the first chapter, but this is the point where my assumptions on police work most likely contradict both canon and history. I couldn't find any information on police apprenticeships at the time, and I don't even know if it's realistic for Jack to have lived in that area as an apprentice. All I remember is that a Police Academy was mentioned at some point during the show so I just sort of went with it. We're just gonna pretend that it's all fine. 
> 
> Also, chapter three won't be up for the next few days as I'm still working on it, but I thought I'd post this one so soon nonetheless because it's smutty ;)

They fell into a rhythm of pleasant conversation, succumbing to the spell of the season – and Jack to the spell of Phryne – as he led them past the busy streets bustling with the late afternoon crowd, worn-out workers retiring from hectic shifts, the delighted cries of children playing in the last of the light, and enamored couples preparing for a gaudy night. Still, they only had eyes for each other, as though the night had carved out a secluded path just for the two of them to walk while the hustle around them faded into nothing. 

They took their time, occasionally pausing to take in their surroundings, familiar roads they’d traveled countless times before now turned golden with autumn. On one occasion, Jack even pressed Phryne up against the nearest tree to conceal them from view, the wind rustling the leaves as his mouth found hers. 

Eventually, he guided her off the streets and onto the gravelled path that signaled the start of a nearby park. Phryne glanced up at him, clearly intrigued. “Wherever are you taking me?”

Although they’d been walking for some time, much longer than was necessary to cover the short distance from the police station, Phryne hadn’t yet asked where they were headed – until he pulled her away from the more well-worn tracks and in between a tight cluster of bare trees, a handful of yellowing leaves still clutching onto the spindly branches while the rest gathered underneath. 

“No worries, I know just the place.” Admittedly, Jack had been hesitant to take her there. He’d been toying with the idea for quite some time now, but the perfect opportunity for the trip had failed to present itself up until that day. Thus far, she was surveying their surroundings in utter delight, and they hadn’t even made it to the best spot. And so they ventured through paths layered thick with leaves, leaving the park behind to a small cluster of trees at its edge, some yellowing leaves still clutching the spindly branches while the rest gathered underneath. 

The path gave way to a thin dirt trail barely visible, and it felt as though the woods had swallowed them whole. The meandering crowds at their backs were drowned out by the stillness of the forest, rarely disrupted by the chirp of a roaming bird or a faint crack in the undergrowth. “It’s beautiful,” breathed Phryne, eyes wide in wonder. Still, they hadn’t made it quite yet.

A few more steps, and they came to a tree much larger than the rest. Obscured from the incautious eye by its low-hanging branches reaching down to caress the leaves gathered on the ground, it held a bench underneath, the wood withered and weather-worn. 

From there, they had an excellent view of a small clearing, rays of sunlight cascading down between the sparse branches to meet the slow trickle of a creek, but were hidden from any passersby that might dare to venture so far.

Jack settled on the bench, and Phryne discarded the basket she’d been carrying to sit close, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, his other hand lacing with hers where it rested against his thigh. 

“I came here when I was at the Police Academy, hoping to escape the burdens of my hard, daunting life as an apprentice.” His tone was mocking, the cases he’d been sent on to practice nothing compared to the ones he was working now. Really, he’d simply grown tired of the permanently cheerful nature of his colleagues, savoring what little free time remained and, unlike them, preferring the escape that literature could provide him to that of liquor. 

“That sounds lovely!” He felt her shift to look up at him, her lips brushing his jaw as she spoke. “Did you ever take a lady friend?”

“Rosie? No, never.” He chuckled, perplexed by Phryne’s inquiry, and not entirely certain what she was getting at or where it was coming from. “She wouldn’t have approved of the filth, or the isolation.” She’d always been overly concerned with his well-being, making it her duty guarantee a life spent in the public eye of society whenever possible. To her, his affinity for stillness had been a fatal flaw, but her efforts to mend him had only driven them further apart.

“And… anyone else?” At that, he twisted to look at her, uncertain. She was wearing an expression of innocence, her soft pout intending to disguise the very real uncertainty he found deep within her eyes. It was one thing for him to perpetually question Phryne’s affection, one that stemmed from deep-rooted feelings of self doubt he suspected he wouldn’t defeat anytime soon. She continued to show him patience, reassuring him at any moment he couldn’t quite banish those wicked voices that had almost become second nature to him, companions for as long as he could remember.

It was entirely different, however, for her to express such concerns. As always, his own mind promptly began to examine how he had wronged her, in what way he had failed that had aroused such a suspicion. He searched her eyes, her insecurity enough for him to overcome his own for the time being. Jack reached out for her, cradling her face as he spoke and pulling her even closer.

“No, Phryne. Just you. Only ever you.” He willed his eyes to communicate his love for her, hoping to pluck all doubts before they could sprout. Just in case, though, he underlined his words with a lingering kiss – successfully so, if her smile he felt spreading against his lips was any indication. 

When they parted, Jack rested his forehead against hers. “Have I done anything to hurt you? To cause you such doubts?” 

She looked offended by the mere suggestion of such a thing. “Never, Jack – it’s the time apart that has hurt me. It seems I can no longer let you out of my sight.” She had attempted a casual tone, but Jack knew what these words must have cost her. Some months ago, a similar confession from either side might have led to her departure, never to look back as she ran. Now, she trusted him enough to open up, to have faith that he would treasure her sincerity rather than abuse it. For a moment, Jack wondered what he’d done to be deserving of her, but it came from a place astonishment rather than worry. 

***

Hours passed as they remained there, just relishing the other’s company, the uninterrupted quiet, and the last of the sun. They feasted on the countless delicacies Dot had packed them, producing more and more from the depths of the basket, enough to satisfy even Jack. They returned to companionable silence, then, Jack dozing off with his head in Phryne’s lap, her hand gently running through his hair. (Phryne could already foresee his pained expression, the incoming complaints of a stiff neck once they disentangled themselves from one another as well as the uncomfortably narrow bench, but she’d relish their closeness for as long as it lasted.) It was in this position, Phryne nodding off herself thanks to his warmth pressed against her, that Jack awoke to the assault of a heavy drop of rain knocking him in the face, followed by another making its way through the branches. He sat, glancing up to find that the burn of the sunset had been obscured by a veil of heavy clouds that were now threatening to spill. 

Beside him, Phryne groaned, glaring up at the darkened sky that had dared to disturb them. “So much for that peaceful stroll,” she mumbled and stood, scanning their surroundings for whatever escape route might provide them the most cover since neither of them had thought to take an umbrella. Just then, the sky opened up in earnest, and even the branches hanging low above the bench couldn’t shield them from the sheets of rain that assaulted them from above. Phryne let out a high-pitched shriek and hurried over to the tree’s trunk where the branches were woven tighter for better shelter. Grabbing the now empty basket, Jack followed. 

***

“Just wonderful,” Phryne muttered. Not only had it been several long minutes since the rain had started, but it failed to show any signs of letting up in the near future. In addition to that, they could now make out the low growl of thunder in the distance, and Phryne was starting to feel chilly inside her dampened clothes. She’d cuddled up to Jack, his woolen overcoat sufficient to cover them both. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, her head resting against his chest as she sulked. By all means, their day had been brilliant, but she’d hoped to finish it off with a nightcap and some long-awaited lovemaking rather than by freezing to death in a public park. 

“Well, I suppose it has to subside at some point,” said Jack wryly, earning another glare from Phryne. Though it wasn’t how he’d expected their evening to play out, he found himself grateful for the prolonged closeness provided by the downpour. He ran his palm across her bare arm as she shivered, the coat she’d been wearing completely drenched and discarded with their soaked hats in the basket. It really appeared unlikely for the weather to recover, and she was beginning to feel gradually colder beneath his embrace, the silk of her pantsuit offering little protection even with Jack’s coat and his nearness to warm her up. 

A thought suddenly came to him, so obvious he’d almost missed it. The hand that had been stroking her wandered upward, curling into the short hair at the nape of her neck and cradling her head to tip his mouth toward hers. Instinctively, her lips opened against his to welcome his tongue, her hands sliding up to sprawl across his back. “Jack?” She moaned into his mouth, breathless from his sudden charge.

“I got you into this dilemma; it’s only fair that I should keep you warm.” His voice was a low rumble and she declared her approval by pressing herself up closer against him. She hooked one leg behind his hips, making her intentions immediately clear. Really, he hadn’t intended to take things this far, having counted on the comfort of his bed to make love to her as opposed to a damp, old tree. But he was wasn’t going to resist – not after the torture that had been their temporary separation and the slight nagging of guilt at the unpleasantness of their situation. 

Still, thanks to their position and the risk of being discovered, albeit slim with the storm at his back, he knew he couldn’t truly have her as he wanted her, couldn’t take all of her. And that, in this moment, he couldn’t help but find awfully  _ thrilling. _

Jack turned them around, never leaving her mouth as he guided Phryne back against the tree. She took advantage of their new position and began to rub herself against his hips, leaving Jack to curse into her mouth when she brushed his growing erection – never quite lingering, but enough to have him bucking his hips in frustration. When she felt him hardening further against her center, Phryne briefly pulled away to flash him a wicked, though somewhat incredulous grin. She hadn’t foreseen to find him delighting so strongly in their brief intermission, but took great pleasure to see that he was. Rewarding his apparent enthusiasm, she reached around him to cup the muscles of his ass, pressing him as close to her core as she could manage.

Not daring to undress her, Jack’s hand slipped into her shirt and camisole to cup her breast, ruffling the flowing fabric in his desperation to reach her and cursing his inability to take her into his mouth. It was cold, freezing, even, leaving any exposure to the chill out of question – he knew their public display alone wouldn’t have been enough to fully discourage her, but he had promised to keep her warm. She gasped as his hand, cool from the chilly breeze, came in contact with the flushed and sensitive skin of her breast, her nipples puckering almost painfully with his touch. 

He broke away from Phryne’s mouth to trail kisses along the side of her face and down her neck, so light she shivered against him. Her soft moans were all but swallowed by the storm roaring around them; she arched into his hand, her head thrown back to grant him better access to her throat. In moving to rock her hips, Phryne was also rubbing her breast into his palm, her nipple catching between the web of his fingers. They both gasped; Phryne at the fiery friction his hand offered in contrast to the biting air and Jack as he imagined his mouth on her instead of his hand. He could almost feel her underneath his tongue, and it sent hot darts of arousal straight to his cock.

As Jack leaned forward to latch onto the sensitive flesh below her ear, suckling and soothing with a hot trail of his tongue, he pushed his leg higher up between hers. She ground down hard against his thigh, and Jack could feel her heat even through the fabric of their trousers as she moved more frantically against him.

With one particularly violent thrust, she ground down fully against his length straining uncomfortably against the tight fabric of his trousers, almost to the point of pain. His name left her lips on a whimper as he bit down to contain his moan, his teeth scraping the flushed skin of her neck. He wanted,  _ needed _ to be inside her, to feel her pulsing heat around his cock, and having it denied to him spurred him on impossibly further. 

“Touch me, Jack,” Phryne gasped, catching the hand that had been wrapped around her waist to hold her in place and shoving it roughly into the front of her trousers and down her knickers. She fell back against the tree deliciously flushed and panting, her eyes hot on his in the second it took for his mind to process her demand. When it finally did, Jack trailed his fingers down through her damp curls, groaning as he found her hot and dripping for him. 

“God, Phryne, you’re so wet.” It appeared she really had missed him, he noted smugly. She nodded wildly, but lost all ability to respond coherently as he traced her folds to spread her wetness, her walls clenching at nothing when he dipped his finger for a moment into her. Then, his finger almost too slick to find purchase, he began to circle her clit with his thumb, settling on a furious rhythm as he knew she was already close. 

She bucked helplessly into his hand, her occasional, soft grasps transforming into an unbroken string of whimpers and chants of his name. Looking up from where his face had been buried in her neck, he saw her chest rising and falling rapidly with her panting, her mouth slightly open and her face and neck deeply flushed. Wanting, needing to see her come undone, he restarted his ministrations on her breast, switching sides and pinching and pulling at her nipple to match his movements on her clit. 

“More, please, Jack,” whimpered Phryne as her legs began to shake against him. Now, he pushed two fingers into her, pressing the heel of his hand hard against her clit with each thrust. Just as she was clutching his shoulders to pull herself higher and ride his hand, the new angle enabling him to push deeper, Jack felt her inner muscles clamping against his fingers, and she shattered with a wail so loud even the retreating rainstorm couldn’t cover it.

His cock was aching, throbbing as she slumped against him, breathing heavily and unable to stay upright. Although he was painfully close, desperate for her touch, his heart clenched briefly at her trust as she relied on him to carry her weight. Pulling both hands out of her garments, he let her slide gently down the tree, the ground beneath them thankfully still mostly dry by virtue of the thickness of the canopy above. Her chest was still rising and falling as she regained her breath, but she smiled a tired smile at him through heavy eyelids. “Jack,” she whispered, reaching out to run a hand along his leg, the only part of him she could reach from her position. “Darling Jack.” 

***

In the short time it took Phryne to recover, Jack attempted to convince her – and himself – of his ability to leave the park straining and worked up as he was. His collar felt hot, his tie too tight around his neck, never mind the ache in his cock so deep he thought he might explode at the merest touch. All the same, he thought of Phryne first and foremost; he wouldn’t forgive himself if she caught a chill at his hand. 

Phryne gave attention to his questionable reasoning from her place on the ground, her expression neutral as she nodded in false consideration. Having pulled his coat conveniently tighter around himself to hide the bulge tenting the front of his trousers, he went on about the warm shelter his bed would provide against the chill, how the rain had finally let up enough to walk unshielded, how they ought to warm up and rest before any further lustful activities could be in order. 

Once he’d finished – he had begun to pace involuntarily, and now came to a determined halt before her – Phryne blinked once as if cleansing her mind of the utter foolishness of his words. Indicating for him to stand back against the tree, she rose to her knees before him. It pained him to see her beautiful silk even more ruined from the damp grass, but nothing could be done to conserve it after his rough handling of the fabric. Having come to the same conclusion, she pulled him closer by the backs of his thighs and was already unfastening his trousers. 

“While your warm bed does sound spectacular, we wouldn’t want you scandalizing the crowds, would we?” She asked wryly, glancing up at his throbbing length, and he suddenly felt strangely relieved at her determination to fulfill his growing need. It had indeed been foolish of him to resolve to such a thing as restraint. For all he knew, had they even made it out of the park, he might have had his way with her in some dank alley halfway to his house, leaving them even more exposed to prying eyes.

Somewhat helplessly, Jack reached out for her, head clouded in single-minded anticipation. He moved one hand to her shoulder to keep her close, the other coming to rest at the back of her head, gently stroking her hair. His own head fell forward as he watched her, and even the sight of her busily unbuttoning him, eager to get her mouth on him, was painfully arousing. With one swift motion, she pulled down his trousers and smalls and he sprang free, breath stuttering in his lungs as the chilly air hit his sensitive skin. He saw Phryne’s eyes darkening, a hungry look on her face as she finally sucked him into her mouth, one hand on the base of his cock to guide him.

She took him in as far as she could, nearly to the back of her throat before releasing him, and Jack emitted a low moan, his hands now tightening in her hair. As she pulled him out, her tongue licking hotly against his underside, he was mesmerized by her swollen lips tracing his length, the hollowing of her flushed cheeks as she moved along his shaft, and then her eyes found his, deep and hooded as she watched him. 

“Phryne,” he groaned and she hummed with her mouth wet and tight around him, the low vibration making him impossibly harder. Her fingernails stinging points of pain, she dug her hand tighter into his thigh to hold him in place. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere, couldn't even if he wanted to, but resisting the urge to jerk his hips into her mouth was becoming increasingly harder, and the hot stinging was reminding him to stay put. He was already close thanks to the delicious display she’d offered earlier in rubbing herself against him, never where he needed her, but so, so close. 

Now, enveloped by her tight warmth, he felt as if he was going wild, enslaved to her mouth moving along his length and that sinful trace of her tongue. It seemed that all of their time apart was crashing down on him, culminating in the exact moment she pulled back, her teeth lightly scraping his skin and her hand around the base of his cock firmly pumping. Then, she released him to swirl his cockhead with her tongue; she pulled him back into her mouth and sucked while her strokes sped up, taking him in as far as he could go. 

“Phryne, I can’t, I’m-” He tried to warn her, and her gaze snapped up to his once more with a burning intensity. His thighs were clenching and unclenching in an effort not to move his hips and hurt her; his breathing desperate as another moan caught in his lungs. Then, her look one of determination, she swallowed, and he bobbed slightly against the back of her throat. Jack came with a choked groan, spilling down her throat as his world went momentarily black. Faintly, as if from afar, he could sense her moaning and greedily drinking him down, then retreating. 

When his senses returned to him, Jack found that he’d been buttoned back up and had collapsed against Phryne, who was being pressed up uncomfortably between the heaviness of his body and the ruthless, unbending tree trunk. He mumbled an apology and pushed himself up to free her, but Phryne’s gaze was focused on the silver sky behind him, a wicked grin taking hold of her features. With that look, he knew she was going to be the death of him. 

“Oh, look, it appears that the rain has stopped,” she said smugly, a twinkle in her eyes. 

  
“How convenient, Miss Fisher,” he muttered, still slightly dizzy and  _ drained _ , but giddy with satisfaction _ .  _ Phryne had again donned her red coat in her own effort not to scandalize any crowds, deeming a drenched garment preferable to one thoroughly rumpled, stained, and soaked in places far less sensible. She smiled an adoring smile and took her hand in his, and the two of them strolled gingerly out of the park, the wet grass squishy beneath their feet.


	3. Chapter 3

They made it to Jack’s house chilled to the bone, the heat of their passion only enough to keep them warm for so long before it wore off. Although the rain had fully let up, moving on to wrap some other part of the world in its silvery gloom, it seemed the frost of the approaching night had come to stay. Upon their return to the more active parts of town, Phryne had deemed it improper to remain so close to Jack, leaving them even more exposed to the elements without the other’s warmth to provide them shelter.

As Jack finally shut the door behind them, setting the basket down in the hallway and turning on the light, they felt the frost to their cores, the protective warmth of his house for a moment unpleasantly foreign against their chilled skin.

Jack assisted Phryne in peeling off her coat, flimsy and useless for such bitter nights, more in an excuse to be close to her than anything else, battling a lingering pang of guilt at leaving her so vulnerable while he himself had been protected by his thick overcoat. Still, she’d promptly declared a lack of better options, made for the moment unconcerned about the cold by the promised warmth awaiting them upon reaching his house. 

He wrapped her briefly in his arms, but to no avail, since his attire was just as thoroughly chilled as her own. What they both needed was to remove those dreadful garments, and soon. At that suggestion, Phryne’s eyes glinted wickedly, but Jack simply shook his head, insisting they had the rest of the night and all of tomorrow – the notion of going back to finish his work when he ought to spend the day with Phryne was simply absurd. When he’d resolved to seize his day off to catch up on his work, he’d done so unaware that Phryne would sweep into his office and lure him away. Now, the treasure within reach, he’d taken the bait, clinging to it with all his might. He refused to waste even a second thought on his unfinished tasks.

To make certain that no unseemly activities would ensue until they were sufficiently reheated, Jack set off for his bedroom to fetch them each a change of clothes, sending Phryne to light the fireplace in his absence. He was just donning a jumper to go with the pyjama pants he’d chosen – the warmest he could find; he was so shaken from the sudden assault of rainfall and frost that one would think he was preparing for a night freezing outside rather than one spent sharing the comfort of a blazing fire with his partner – when he heard a muffled string of curses drifting in through the half-open living room door. He smiled, playfully bracing himself for whatever he might find as he made his way over to her. In the case of Phryne Fisher, one was foolish to harbor expectations, though he dared to hope she hadn’t set fire to his house. 

When he came to a halt by the door, he saw her sitting cross-legged in front of the unlit fireplace, her arms covered up to the elbows in a thin layer of soot. She appeared to have abandoned her task, instead shooting a glare that might have well been deadly at the logs of wood that just sat there, oblivious how they’d offended her. 

“I thought you said you knew how to start a fire,” inquired Jack from his leaning position against the doorframe. 

It promptly proved the wrong approach; her eyes were only slightly less deadly when they fixed on him. “I said I could probably figure it out!” She threw her hands up in exasperation, sending a dusting of ashes flying into the room that Jack did his best not to acknowledge. 

Daring to offer his assistance, he strode up to her to inspect the impressive, towering and slightly shaky stack of logs she’d built inside the fireplace. “And how exactly did you think  _ that _ would catch fire?” 

“I don’t know, Jack! Just light a match and toss it in there?” She made a vague sweeping gesture between her pile and a book of matches discarded helplessly on the floor. “It works differently at my house,” she muttered under her breath, and although Jack couldn’t contemplate how mastery of an element of nature could differ from home to home, he made no further comment as he dropped to his knees to take over. With skilled hands, he dissected her pile of wood, selecting a few strong logs out of the dozen she’d taken and adding on kindling and torn-up newspaper, all of which he then lit using one of her rejected matches. 

“There we go.” Jack reached out to wrap his arms around Phryne, pulling her in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. He was enamored by her frustration, the way she felt safe to exhibit it solely in the familiarity of his presence. She melted into him, guiding them down gently to the floor. From there, they watched as the flames licked at the fragments of paper and wood before they dared to enclose the larger logs. Phryne was nestled closely against him while they enjoyed the spreading of warmth.

She brought their clasped hands up to her lips to kiss his knuckles, and the coldness of her skin reminded Jack that while he’d changed clothes, she was still wearing her wet pantsuit. And in coming to her aid, he hadn’t yet laid out garments for her to spend the night. “Stay right here,” he said, keeping his voice soft, his lips brushing her temple. Somewhat hesitantly, he untangled himself from her embrace and set out to select something dry and warm for her to wear. 

By the time he once again left his bedroom, a fresh pair of flannel pyjamas in hand – he loved the sight of her in his sleepwear designed for comfort rather than to charm – he had a quick notion that, to ensure the rest of the evening played out to their utter contentment, some hot cocoa was in order after their unexpected run-in with the rain. For that purpose, he decided on a quick detour to the kitchen, hoping Phryne could go a few more minutes without him. 

***

“Do I smell hot cocoa?” Phryne had appeared unnoticed in the doorway just as he was fixing a second mug of the hot beverage. 

“You do indeed.” Jack didn’t look up from his task as she stepped into the room, coming up behind him and enveloping him in her arms. His hand dropped to hers where it came to rest against his stomach and he heard her breathe deeply into his neck, humming her appreciation at the mingling scents of chocolate and Jack, faint traces of vanilla and sandalwood clinging to his skin. 

“A night like this calls for special measures,” he said to explain why he’d taken the additional step to make sure of their comfort, and Phryne hummed once more in agreement. Then, just as he was stroking his hand up her arm, he observed that her skin was no longer bare and chilled, but instead enclosed in a familiar, navy-colored fabric that he recognized instantly as his night robe. He turned in her arms and looked down to study her newly acquired garments. 

It seemed she was indeed wearing his robe; it was bound tightly around her waist, but too large for her in the torso, slipping off one creamy shoulder to reveal that she had nothing on underneath. Additionally, he noted she was now bare-faced, her skin glowing healthily to match the tender sparkle in her eyes. 

With great difficulty, he tore his focus away from any further glimpses her skin he might catch to voice his question, which was proving highly difficult with her hands now pressing warmly into his hips. 

“Why are you wearing my clothes?” Then, after some brief consideration, he added: “Do I even want to know where you found this?” His mind struggled to recall when he’d last seen the robe, remembering only that he’d deemed the garment lost when it had inexplicably disappeared after yet another wakeful night of police work earlier in the week. (Not that he’d wasted much time looking, anyway; he’d simply accepted the new-found lack of night robe in his life as he spent most nights at Wardlow where he had little use for one. And those rare nights he needed to spend at his house, he’d decided he could do just fine without it.) 

“Oh, don’t be silly, Jack!” She found his misplaced suspicion quite charming and ran a hand along his jaw as she regarded him, and he shivered. Her body was pressed entirely up to his to bask in his warmth, soft curves against firm muscles. It should be against the law to be so distracting, he thought – though, if he were to charge her with distraction of a police officer, he knew she'd delightedly make it a game, proving just how infuriating she could be. 

“I found it flung over the back of your sofa.” That was indeed where he’d last seen the robe, now that he thought about it, attempting to shake off her charms. She went on to explain why she hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes when she’d paid him a visit earlier in the day. “You know my own clothes were completely  _ soaked _ , in more ways than one – I hadn’t anticipated for things to get quite this heated.” Then, she actually  _ winked  _ at him, that wicked woman, and trailed a finger over the regrettably dense fabric of his jumper down the defined muscles of his chest. 

“I thought I’d lost that,” he said simply, pointing at his robe and feeling slightly dizzy from her teasing. Following that, he stepped out of her embrace, unwilling to surrender yet again, and she cast him a disapproving glare. Unperturbed, he picked up both of the steaming mugs and pressed one into her hand. She wrapped both palms around it for warmth, then turned and made for the living room, perhaps hoping he’d be more inclined to her touch in the soothing comfort of the fire. 

“Oh Jack, whatever would you do without me?” Her tone was one of fond exasperation as she went on about the chaos men made when left to their own devices, and how he could possibly misplace a piece of clothing so large and striking as a night robe. Her question brought him right back to their debate, and Jack realized he’d been rather distracted by the way his robe clung faithfully to the curve of her arse as she walked. He found it made an acceptable substitute for the garments he’d chosen for her. 

“I could ask you the same question,” retorted Jack. He tilted his head to indicate the flames he’d ignited that were still burning brightly, finally concentrating on her words now that she was seated. Instead of taking a seat on the couch as he’d anticipated, she settled before it, on the floor near the heat emanating from the fireplace. Carefully, she set her mug of hot cocoa down at her side. 

After a short trip to the sofa to retrieve the large, fuzzy blanket she’d once gifted him in horror of the apparently miserable plainness of his furnishings, he sat down on the rug next to her. Thankfully, the sofa stood close, allowing him to lean back against its frame as he made himself comfortable. As soon as he did, Phryne settled herself between his legs, her back against his chest, her head leaned back to rest on his shoulder. 

Jack arranged the blanket to cover them both and gathered Phryne close, kissing the top of her head as he took her in his arms. She sighed happily in response, picking up her mug to take a long sip of hot cocoa. Putting it back down, she turned in his arms, curling into his side to place her head on his chest, right atop his steadily beating heart. His arm came around her, one hand slowly running down her back while the other came to rest atop her own, smaller hand where it lay flat against his chest. He traced along her fingers, the back of her hand, and then her pulse as she turned her hand to entwine her fingers with his. Phryne sighed softly, and Jack felt her smile against his chest. His heart clenched in admiration and he let out a shaky breath, his entire being spilling over with affection for her. 

“Phryne,” he breathed, and as she shifted to glance up at him, eyes vulnerable and tender and searching his, he cradled her face, thumb gently stroking her cheek and then down to her lips, her skin warm beneath his touch.

“Jack.” She moved, then, sitting up in his lap and making their lips meet, her hands resting warmly against his chest. They stayed that way, her lips the barest touch on his, filling him with tingles of warmth and tenderness and so much  _ love _ it left him dizzy. All else ceased to matter as they held each other, their bodies pressed together in a soothing embrace.

When they finally parted, it felt to him like rising from the most marvelous of dreams. Neither quite willing to let to after what felt like a blissful eternity, his heart was bursting and yet so light with the astonishing magic of the moment, the world narrowed down to the meeting of their lips. Their foreheads pressed together, they hesitantly let their eyes flutter open, and Jack was stunned to find Phryne’s endlessly deep and sparkling with tears. 

“My Jack,” she whispered.

"I love you too." He'd aimed for a humorous tone, but the words came out heavy and choked with emotion. At her softly breaking voice, a wave of affection for her, desperate and untamed and utterly raw, had hit him so fiercely he thought he might drown, and he had no choice but to drag her down with him. 

Taking her face in both hands, he kissed her again, this time deeper. 

***

When Jack woke in the early hours, the frame of the sofa pressing stiffly into his back, it had gone fully dark out, the last burning embers of the sunset replaced by the inky blackness of night. Much like earlier that day, Phryne was a warm weight against him. They’d slid further down the back of the sofa, leaving her pressed into his chest with her arm flung across his side to hold him close as she slept. In spite of his discomfort, this very moment Jack made himself savor, lacking the urgency of impending discovery or the necessary completion of unfinished tasks (or so he convinced himself, her soft warmth aiding to ease his stress). 

While it had become a common occurrence for the two of them to share a bed, and just as common for Jack to wake before Phryne did, there was something different to this instant, to stirring in the dead of night while a gentle autumn rain tapped against the windows, the two of them a fixed point in the vastness of unknown, shifting dark. She was keeping him grounded where he’d usually grow tense, her affection, unmistakable even in her sleep as she held him tight, helping to keep his roaming thoughts at bay. For a moment, however brief, Jack’s constant doubts appeared illogical; with Phryne so close and drinking up his warmth, he couldn’t fathom how he’d ever thought her feelings for him could be anything less than unending love. 

She looked utterly peaceful in her rest, her face relaxed and open with the slightest smile tugging at the corners of her soft pink lips. His robe had slipped further down her shoulder to reveal her upper back, her skin glowing softly in the thin gleams of moonlight. Jack brought his palm up to stroke her skin, across her shoulder blade and up her neck, causing her to sigh quietly into his chest. At such moments, even when he found himself for once certain of her affection, he still found himself stunned by her closeness, her clearly evident trust, and he vowed never to take it, or her, for granted for as long as she’d have him.

As much as he enjoyed their intimacy, however, the harsh bite of the sofa at his back was growing unbearable as Phryne’s weight pushed him deeper into it. Still, he longed to return to sleep, his thoughts growing lazy and his eyelids heavy. 

Having previously held back to maintain decency, Jack now found no plausible reason not to carry her to bed. Although abandoning their position in favor of the cold darkness of his house until they could settle under the covers sounded far less than pleasant, the thought of carrying her caused him to feel secretly delighted. It had always brought him great pleasure to be there for her, to have her choose his loyalty and support over solitude and separation, even when she was well capable to complete on her own whatever task was at hand. 

Taking one final, wistful moment to mourn the forthcoming loss of warmth, Jack began to slowly disentangle himself from Phryne’s sleepy embrace and got to his feet.

***

Jack managed to pick her up from the floor by sheer force of will, just barely avoiding to wake her. Upon entering his bedroom and lowering her carefully to the bed, he was panting; she’d proven completely uncooperative, slumping against him and cuddling happily into his chest with complete disregard for his efforts. Now, she had the audacity not to let him go, clinging onto him and muttering grumpily in her sleep as he attempted to round the bed to join her. As it was, he was obliged to climb awkwardly over her. 

Phryne cuddled right back into his arms, burying her face in his neck, and an affectionate warmth sizzled over him at her resistance to release him for even a second. She continued to cling to him as he rolled onto his back, sprawling across his chest and tangling her legs with his. Truth be told, the position wasn’t the most comfortable; it was soon revealed that the impact left him unable to move but to wake her was unthinkable. He was thankful for any period of stillness he could provide her, forever up and moving in her waking hours. 

And so, he wrapped her in his arms, wishing never to let go. 

***

Upon waking, Phryne turned beneath the sheets, still warm from her sleep and the sunlight flooding the room through the open window. Much to her dismay, however, the early-morning chill was working diligently to pour itself into every corner, ruthlessly robbing her of the last of her sleep. She reached out, a hopeless pursuit to find Jack and writhe out of the day’s tight grasp before it could fully claim her. As could be predicted with the sun high and bright, and if the blanket thrown around her was any indication, she came away empty; Jack was nowhere to be found. 

When she’d woken briefly in the dead of night to find they’d relocated to the bed, she was fairly certain they hadn’t yet enjoyed the warm shelter of the covers. It had most likely been her fault – Jack had often teased her about her sleeping habits, her stubborn refusal to loosen her embrace on him once she was settled in sleep. She loved that he’d taken the time to tuck her in upon leaving, a humble gesture of thoughtfulness even when he found it challenging to stay at her side and remain motionless as she slept. Where she scrambled to draw out the night until even its last remains bid their farewell, Jack embraced the day as soon as it came. 

Coming slowly to terms with her defeat against the light of day, only emphasized by the goosebumps she felt erupting in the wake of the wind’s chilling stroke, Phryne got up, deciding on a trip to the bathroom to freshen up before she began her search for Jack. 

She found him in the garden, crouched in the shade of a sprawling tree. He appeared to be examining the damage the previous day’s downpour had caused his garden. What had been a striking arrangement ablaze with the most vivid shades of scarlet and peach and lavender had been washed away, leaving only the most stubborn of the blooms standing. The others had wilted, sinking to meet the soaked-through soil as they grew too heavy with rain. 

Beside him, a picnic blanket had been spread where the grass had remained mostly dry, equipped with an assortment of simple, but delicious food from toast to luscious apples and peaches freshly gathered from Jack’s own garden, faithfully tended to even as their leaves withered and burned with the coming of autumn.

From where she stood, his back turned to her, Phryne could make out the chiseled lines of his muscles flexing beneath the thin material of his undershirt as he worked, inspecting the degree of his loss. His skin shimmered golden in the light, warmed under the caress of the sun, calling for her in. She inched cautiously closer, intending to move silently over from the back door to take him in her arms. She’d made it to the center of his backyard when Jack finally spoke.

“Awake so soon, Miss Fisher?” He didn’t turn to face her, but she saw he’d halted in his ministrations to listen.

“Damnit, Jack, I didn’t make a sound!” Phryne huffed in exasperation; she’d gone all out to keep quiet, but the slight crush of the grass, still wet beneath her feet in the wake of last night’s storm, must have given her away. 

“No, you didn’t,” confirmed Jack, not bothering to inform her that he’d caught her scent from a mile away. She’d just taken a shower; the smell of his soap had registered before she’d set foot in the garden (not to mention the steady thrum of running water that had previously filled the air). Her arrival had long been foreshadowed by vanilla and sandalwood carried along on the faint breeze. 

Now that she was no longer straining to remain silent, she swiftly crossed the distance that remained. Jack caught a glance of her over his shoulder and rose as she pressed up against his back, lightly running her fingers along his arms and feeling the muscles shift beneath his skin as he fought to keep still. She had once again donned his robe, the rough material a stark contrast to the smoothness of her skin as the remnants of water cooled against it. 

“The bed had gone cold without you in it to warm me.” She murmured the words into his skin, the barest brush of her lips on the base of his neck making him shiver. He pictured her there, wet hair clinging to flushed cheeks, her eyes hooded and dark with want. He was in a flash reminded of their first shared case, how easily he’d wished to come undone at the sight of her. Since then, his desire had only multiplied as his raw, primal lust had transformed with growing admiration into a bone-deep, insatiable passion for her. Now, at long last permitted to touch her, Jack was no longer able to keep back. 

He began to turn in her arms, but Phryne kept him in place with her hand closing assertively around his hip. “No, don’t move.” Her voice a low whisper; she accentuated her words with a delicate scrape of her teeth against the sensitive flesh behind his ear, her tongue darting out to soothe the spot. In stretching up to reach the spot, she dug her fingers deeper into his hip for leverage. Jack’s hand closed over hers, intending to loosen her grasp and draw her close, but she persisted, her other hand tracing unperturbedly up his arm, her short fingernails occasionally grazing his warm skin. It was taking all of his resolve to stay still.

A growl of her name fell from his lips, his hand tightening on hers across his hip. He felt the tight peaks of her nipples rubbing against his back through the thin layers of fabric separating them. Additionally, his cock was rapidly hardening, straining painfully against the tight front of his trousers; he was beginning to curse all fabric that was keeping them apart but was doing his utmost not to rush her.

“I never did take you up on last night’s promise,” Phryne purred, taking his earlobe between her teeth. Grateful for her lack of pretense, Jack went along without complaint, though he desired nothing more than to feel her; having taken the day off, he intended to make the most of it before the pull of unfinished work drew him back to his desk, but he doubted he’d manage such long restraint before he next succumbed to her lure. 

The hand that wasn’t keeping him in place traced his upper arm, exploring the muscles beneath his sun-warmed skin. Continuing to suckle whatever parts of his neck she could reach, she slid his suspenders off his shoulders with a smooth stroke of her hand. Shifting out of them, his arms dropped uselessly to his sides. It was all he could do not to turn around, desperate to prolong her touch but also itching to return the favor. He wanted desperately to see her. 

At last convinced that he wouldn’t escape her grasp, Phryne let go of his hip to travel upward, untucking his undershirt and sneaking her hand underneath. She stroked up his chest, and Jack breathed in sharply as her fingers brushed his nipple, lightly scraping and pinching the nub. 

As her other hand began its ascent of his inner thigh, Jack felt faintly grateful for the high hedge he’d chosen as a fence in the construction of his backyard. Although, even if they weren’t for the most part hidden, he wasn’t certain he could stop himself, made reckless with arousal and anticipation. Untucking it completely, she moved to lift his shirt; he pulled it over his head and cast it blindly aside, needing her hands back on him. 

He was on fire; his entire being felt reduced to her touch. Her hot, wet mouth against his neck, her fingernails scraping his chest, and, all coherent thought abandoning him as the feeling registered, her other hand massaging his hard length through the material of his trousers. She kept her movements slow, torturous; he bucked into her hand, hoping to strengthen the sensation, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Please, Phryne,” he groaned weakly, not sure what exactly he was asking for, needing all of her and needing it  _ now. _ For the barest moment, he felt her withdraw, whimpering in agony at the loss, but when she came back, her hand pressed firmly against his clothed cock, the breath stuttered in his lungs. Pressing up tightly against him, she’d slipped out of her robe, rubbing her bare breasts against his back. 

Jack spun around and Phryne gasped in surprise; she’d just begun to undo his buttons but was now pressed fully into him, his erection pressing hard against her belly. She moaned, shuddering as her puckered nipples brushed the firmness of his chest. One broad palm flattening across her back to keep her close, Jack tangled the other hand in her wet hair, cradling her skull as he pulled her in for a hungry kiss. Phryne moaned into his mouth, moving her fingers down his chest and stomach, following the coarse trail of hair as her tongue plunged hotly into his mouth. The robe remained bound at her waist, but Phryne had slipped it off her shoulders, leaving the top part hanging loosely around her hips. Jack loved the feel of her skin against his, soft and smooth smelling of his soap as he moved from her mouth to trail soft kisses along the side of her neck, pausing briefly to suck at a small mark he’d left during the previous day’s explorations. 

Tilting her head to the side and into his palm, Phryne moaned Jack’s name as his hand came up between them to knead her small breasts. Her hand had stilled against the buttons of his trousers; distractedly, she returned to the task, eager to remove all layers between them, but her mind was too clouded with arousal to fully cooperate, her fingers needing to return to his skin. She let out a shaky breath in frustration and Jack drew back slightly to look at her but refused to fully let her go. 

“Blanket?” He asked, tilting his head to indicate where the picnic blanket lay in the shade of the tree. Breathing heavily, Phryne nodded, her eyes blazing with arousal as she looked up at him. She captured his lips once more in a hard kiss and then reluctantly released him to cross the short distance. Jack smiled at her eagerness, toeing off his shoes and socks before he joined her on the blanket. 

As soon as he was at her side, Phryne pushed Jack down, straddling his hips and running her hands across his chest. Rocking her hips against his, she leaned down for another kiss, but Jack groaned into her mouth, hips bucking up helplessly to meet her thrusts; he was becoming increasingly frustrated by her teasing. He tore his lips away, seizing her by the hips as he made quick work of his robe still suspended around her waist. He flung it carelessly aside, his breath hitching when all of her was at last revealed to him. 

“Stunning,” he breathed, drinking in the sight of her, and she flashed him a wicked smile that twisted something in his chest. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she considered him smugly through hungry eyes. She looked completely and utterly disheveled; her hair was mussed from his hands and she was panting, a rosy flush across the column of her neck and her breasts. He let his eyes roam her body a moment longer, then followed her gaze down to his hands still clutched around the curves of her hip. 

“Now, perhaps you could manage without me for a moment? You’re wearing far too many clothes.” Reluctantly, Jack loosened his grip but didn’t fully release her. He let out a disgruntled noise as she wriggled out of his grasp with a chuckle. “I won’t be going very far, see?” Leaning down, Phryne ran her tongue across his lower lip and took it briefly between her teeth. At the same time, she swung one leg across his hip, settling down at his side. Her nimble fingers immediately resumed their work on the buttons of his trousers, pulling them and his underthings down in one slide before Jack lifted his hips to get them off. 

Her hand wrapped tightly around his cock in an instant, that first touch evoking a gasp from him. The relief at finally feeling her hand on him was short-lived as Jack was growing increasingly tense beneath her touch, her skilled fingers working smoothly up and down his throbbing length and circling his cockhead with each upward stroke. He was in awe of the sight, her small hand stroking, squeezing his hot skin, but his gaze lingered instead on Phryne’s soft curves, greedily roaming her body, and his fingers caught her wrist to halt her movements. Her eyes snapped up to his.

“I want to be inside you, Phryne.” The expression on her face, one of pure, wicked lust, became threaded with tenderness at his request, his straining voice. She rose, swinging her leg back over his hip. She rubbed her slick sex once against his cock but took pity as Jack sent her a pleading glance. Then, finally, she aligned herself with his cock and sank down on him until he was buried to the hilt in her wet heat. They stilled for a moment to savor the feel of being joined, their heavy breathing mingling with the sound of the wind rustling the leaves around them. 

“Protection?” He asked weakly, somewhat belatedly, opening his eyes that he hadn’t realized had fallen closed. Phryne nodded and began to move just as he thought he could no longer hold himself back.

She looked glorious on top of him, ascending until only his tip was enclosed by her wet heat and then falling. Abandoning all attempts at teasing him, she went for a fierce rhythm, showing him just how much she’d missed him. Phryne knew he was close; she poured all of herself into her movements. Jack’s hand fell to her ass, the other coming down to rub her clit and help her along. She arched her back as she fucked him, a chant of his name falling from her lips. Her own hand went to her breast, squeezing it and pinching her nipple between her fingers as she rose and fell around his cock. 

Jack felt himself climbing higher and higher, helplessly skidding closer to the edge, his hips rocking to meet her every frantic thrust. Just when he thought he could no longer last, he felt her walls tightening around him, squeezing him; he pressed his thumb hard against her clit, her entire body going rigid as she went over. The air stuttering in his lungs, he let his pleasure overtake him and followed, his fingernails digging deep into the flesh of her arse. His release was explosive as it shot through him; she consumed all of his senses as he spilled warmly into her and then she fell against his chest, limp and breathing heavily. 

Sliding out of her, Jack gently guided Phryne to curl lie against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. She shifted, gazing up at the autumn sky, clouds sliding by on the crisp air, the fire-colored leaves of the tree stirring in sync. The bright, warmer weather was giving way to a hazy gloom, the edges tinged grey with the promise of more rain to come. They both knew it wouldn’t be long before they had to make for the shelter of his house, the breeze carrying their way a darkened veil of rain that was foretold picking-up of the wind. 

“Now that we’ve thoroughly scandalized your neighbors, Jack, how about we continue our explorations inside?” Even as she spoke, she seemed in no hurry to move from her spot by his side. After a long moment in which she made no attempts to stand, Jack nudged her gently in the side, smiling. 

“I thought I’d made up for leaving you in my bed this morning,” he said dryly and added, feeling far too cozy with her weight pressed against him, “I’ll move if you do, Miss Fisher.” He trailed his hand along the column of her neck and down her chest, grazing the side of her breast in encouragement. Although he shared her sentiments about the comfort of their current position, the bite to the air was becoming too unpleasant to dismiss. 

She did move, then, but only to roll halfway on top of him and press a soft kiss to his lips, her tongue sliding in. “Oh, you’re far from forgiven.” She smiled against his mouth. “But if you ask nicely, I’ll let you show your remorse to a suitable extent.” With a final drag of her breasts against his chest, she sat. As Jack followed suit, he noticed that something across his garden had caught her eye, and hesitated before he stood. 

“Don’t move.” Her eyes were bright with laughter, and Jack felt a pinch of concern at whatever it was she was up to. However, it didn’t take long before she returned, kneeling before him, a single, vibrant blossom in hand that she’d plucked from the wretched remains of his garden, one of the rare survivors still luminous in full bloom. 

This particular flower was of a brilliant fuschia, long, slim petals gathering in the center into a heart of bright yellow. She held it out to show him and then leaned in, her face a mask of concentration as she tucked it gently behind his ear. It took her a few attempts to get it settled, his untamed curls struggling to hold the bloom in place. 

He’d been too distracted by the closeness of Phryne’s face to his as she worked but now that she’d retreated, he felt certain he looked utterly ridiculous. When she pulled back, however, finally triumphant, there was a softness to her eyes that made his heart do a little leap. She cupped his jaw, tilted his head a bit to admire her work, and leaned in for the softest of kisses, her lips barely touching his. “Perfect,” she said with a small smile, then brightened as she stood. 

“Now, I think you owe me an apology, Inspector.” She held out her hand to pull him up and the two of them made their way inside just as the sky opened in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm. I'm not entirely sure what happened with this chapter and I feel a bit insecure about the entirety of this fic because it has no plot, but it took me two months (and way too many rewrites) and the idea wanted to be written. I've decided to just go with it because my Whumptober fic still needs to get done so here's chapter three, finally! Thank you for reading! <3


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